dancing queen

Pooka had been sleeping in the thick grove of trees. He was a nocturnal wolf after all.

The orchard of bygone days, now reclaimed by the wild, was a perfect place for a wandering outcast like him to hide. In the night he had found a particularly dense bramble of vines and thorns, having noticed a dried flower and piece of cloth tangled in the outside of the bramble. It was a secret signal from his own family. Sure enough when he found a way to wriggle into the bramble he found that it had been emptied inside creating a small shelter for a single wolf, completely hidden from the outside world.

When the morning came he was safe in the soft green glow of light through the dense leaves, hidden mostly in shadows. It wasn't until the yapping and explosion of wings nearby that he stirred from his slumber. Pooka had cont to bed a few hours before morning, so it was far too soon to be waking up; but still the yapping sounded like a pup and the wolf was curious.

Cautiously, as he heard tiny paws dash away, followed by the sound of a tumble, Pooka crept out of his bramble and saw the tri-colored plume of a tail waving like a flag. Well well, if it wasn't the little pup from before. Pooka laughed inwardly and began to stalk her from a distance, watching as the pup ran with the abandon of youth. Her running was a mild trot for him, but it took more effort to follow only in the shadows of the overgrown trees. Pooka's ghostly coloration drifted through the shade like some kind of Phantom until she finally stopped.

Smirking, Pooka waited and watched as she flumped unceremoniously on the ground, sprawling carelessly. He let her rest a moment or two before finding a low hanging plum and pulling it from the vine with his teeth. Pooka aimed, turned, and then kicked the plum so it sailed through the air hoping it would land near the pup with a splat.

Watching its arcing path, he sat in the shade, half hidden by bushes and weeds. The dark patches around his eyes on a mostly greyish white coat might make him stand out a bit more than it did at night, from where he sat and waited, watching to see what she would do and saying nothing yet. He was not trying to avoid her detection; but he was a cautious and skittish wolf, and last time this little one had been guarded by a tiger. Who knew if another one was close, or if her parents might be lurking.